The Four Elements
by aabchamp
Summary: Carter and Abby wonder what happened. JC/AL


**Title:** The Four Elements

**Author:** aabchamp

**Category:** Angst/Romance JC/AL

**Rating:** I'm not that familiar with the American rating system, but as far as I know, PG-13.

**Description:** Stand alone. Carter and Abby wonder what happened.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. Want to…but don't.

**Notes:** This is my first fic in well ever, so please bear with me if it sucks.

Here you go…

-------

Letting go of your innermost, true feelings. The words were haunting Abby's mind as she stumbled along the dark streets that cold winter night. Huge pangs of guilt mixed with the usual emotions of panic and pain adding to her misery. 

Panic, pain. Peculiar how those two words perfectly described her state of mind as it had come to be. Or had it always been like that? She really couldn't remember. She really couldn't remember a lot of things. The childhood that had been wasted; thrown away in an ocean of demands; demands from Maggie, from Eric. From Richard? Where was that boundary between being a child and an adult? Had it too been wasted? The marriage, the abortion, all washed away from her memory. She could almost feel how imaginary waves rolled along the beaches of her mind, washing it all away, silently eroding the panic and pain deeply rooted within. Away. Leaving marks that never really left. Away. Washing away those feelings that had occupied her mind since childhood. 

Damn waves. Damn water. Damn erosion. Damn roots. Too deep. Never leaving, never disappearing. 

Her emotional state, her downward spiral had always been on full throttle through distant landscapes of nothingness, rumbling away on a slippery track heading for…yeah, heading for what? Somewhere beyond rescue. At least until tonight…or so she had thought. But then, there it was again. The water rushing…

-------

…down to earth. The epitome of John Carter. Very fitting, he thought to himself as he was sitting there silently on his couch, fingers wrapped around the remote, hands cold and red, perfectly contrasting his white knuckles. He was pressing the remote too tightly. The perfect image of Carter, silent, strong, reliable shattered. White knuckles against red hands and fingers did not correspond with that image. 

Anger, hurt, frustration, feelings that did not belong here on earth. Emotions one was not allowed to associate with Carter, John Truman Carter III, rich kid, eligible bachelor, nice guy, heir to a fortune, well behaved and…down to earth.

Had it always been like this, had he always been the nice reliable guy whom everyone loved and trusted? In this exact moment he never remembered it to have been otherwise. It was all a part of him, of his façade. Keeping up appearances; the main goal of every member of the Carter family. Carter included. He had tried being the person they all demanded him to be, but where had it lead him so far? Nowhere, really; only to heartbreak and misery. It was getting tiring, and as he realized that his hands were now burning from pressing his fingers continually around the remote, Carter gently let go of his hot, red hands, and decided that this was the end; he was through getting burned…

-------

…by the fire. Abby could still feel the heat embracing the coldness of their bodies, as they had been sitting there, silently watching the flames wrapping their arms around the dry, brown surface of the wood; a mixture of yellow and orange slowly eating away, leaving only scattered traces of blackness. Destruction.

Giving in to intuition, she had initiated it. Guided by her heart she had let go, for once allowing herself to loosen her grip, to pursue the unknown. She had let go, allowing herself to feel the heat of his body, to let him wrap his arms around her while whispering silently,

"I need you."

She had let go, allowing herself to look into his eyes as they bore into hers, sending secret messages of longing. He had touched her cheek, her hair, her arms her back, and she had let go. She had urged him to go on, suppressing a familiar wave of panic, locking her eyes into his, as he leaned in brushing his lips against hers. Her head spinning, she had barely been able to feel the electricity of his fingers; the burning sensation on her skin as her body succumbed to his touch.

"I need you too."

What had gone wrong? Why was she out here in the cold…

-------

…gasping for air? Carter could still feel the way his breath quickened, the way he with each breath lost a small trace of coherent thought, the way his chest, rising and falling, worked in a machine-like fashion to fill his oxygen deprived bloodstream. To make his body function, make up for the energy drain that had surged through him with the feeling of her body close to his. The smell of her hair, the feel of the soft cotton of her blouse, the taste of her mouth…

And then it had ended. As quickly as it had started, it was over. She had left. Running out the door. She had left. 

The faint smell of her perfume was still lingering in the air as Carter buried his head in his hands wondering aimlessly what had gone wrong. Thinking. Thinking. Dreaming of what could have been.

------

Well, that was it. 

Please review, constructive criticism is always appreciated.


End file.
